


stuck in reverse (lights will guide you home)

by carissima



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: M/M, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Soulmates, all ships are very minor except for lirry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-15
Updated: 2014-07-15
Packaged: 2018-02-09 01:13:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 17,190
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1963380
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/carissima/pseuds/carissima
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Because your daddy is my soulmate," his mum had answered, and Liam nodded solemnly, even though he had no idea what a soulmate was. "It means I belong to him. And he has my name on his shoulder, because he belongs to me."</p><p>Even at four, Liam remembers not liking that idea.</p>
            </blockquote>





	stuck in reverse (lights will guide you home)

Liam can remember, in vivid detail, the first time he realised what soulmates were. He'd been four, sitting on his mum's lap while they sang the alphabet together and his mum was running through the small list of words he could spell. He was halfway through L-I-A-M when he stopped and pressed a curious, tiny finger against the writing on his mum's wrist.

"Mummy, what's this?" he'd asked, his finger tracing over a 'G'.

"It's your daddy's name," his mum had said softly. "Shall we try to spell it?"

"G-E-O-F-F," Liam said clearly, his finger following over the dark words on his mum's skin.

"Geoff," his mum said, her hand closing around Liam's wrist and bringing it to her lips, blowing a raspberry against his palm to make him giggle as he tried to wriggle away.

"Why is it on your wrist, mummy?" Liam asked. He checked his own wrist but it was still blank, no cursive script written there even though he'd half expected to see it.

"Because your daddy is my soulmate," his mum had answered, and Liam nodded solemnly, even though he had no idea what a soulmate was. "It means I belong to him. And he has my name on his shoulder, because he belongs to me."

Even at four, Liam remembers not liking that idea. Like, he liked belonging to his mum and his dad because they were his parents, and even Nic and Ruth, because they were his sisters and he loved them, even when they teased him and wouldn't let him watch Batman on the telly on Saturday mornings.

"Does that mean I don't have a soulmate?" Liam asked, checking the rest of his skin to make sure he hadn't missed someone's name written onto his skin.

"No sweetheart, you have a soulmate," his mum assured him, but Liam didn't feel all that reassured. Mostly he remembers feeling a bit scared, if anything. Belonging to some stranger felt pretty scary. "You'll find out who when you're older. Much older."

Liam was dreading it already.

*

He's never quite got used to the idea of soulmates though. He'd watched his sisters find theirs, their tattoos appearing on their 21st birthdays and by their 22nd birthdays, they'd been married and by all accounts and appearances, blissfully happy. His parents, of course, were still as in love as always, and Liam had caught them over the years, quiet moments when his dad's thumb would brush over the lettering on his mum's wrist, both of them smiling happily and sharing a kiss.

But Liam can't quite quell the uneasy feeling in his tummy whenever he thinks about it. He sees soulmates come together all the time, and they all seem perfectly content as they settle into life together with a complete stranger. But he wonders if that's all there is; just some great masterplan where no one is in charge of their destiny.

Liam can't live his life that way. He's always been in control of his own choices, which is why he's back onstage, smiling with a confidence he doesn't feel as Simon recognises him. If he'd listened to everyone else, everyone who'd told him to give up and accept that his fate wasn't to be a singer, then he wouldn't be here, watching Simon give him a standing ovation and giving him a second chance.

He races offstage and grabs his mum around the waist, feeling himself being pulled into an engulfing hug. It feels like home and warmth and safety, as his dad wraps himself around both of them and he feels Nic's hand on his hair and Ruth's hand closing over his. It feels like belonging.

It's the same feeling he gets when he's onstage, singing at bootcamp. A desperate feeling that this is right, that this is what he's meant to be doing. But he's worked for it, so so hard, and if he gets there, if his dreams come true, then it'll be because he put in the time and effort to achieve it.

When everything comes crashing down, when his name doesn't get called, he's certain he can feel his heart physically breaking in his chest. He's trying so hard not to cry but of course he does, because he's wanted this so bad and he hasn't even gotten to Judges Houses this time round. Liam wants to go home, to feel his mum stroke his hair and tell him that everything will be alright.

But his name is being called out and he finds himself standing with four other distraught-looking boys and then they're being pushed out onto the stage and he tries not to look at Simon because he feels sick and a tiny bit betrayed and he just wants to go home. He's not expecting to be given a third chance, standing onstage with these strangers and being told that they can try again as a group, but he wants it. God, he really fucking wants it.

He wants it more than anything.

*

It takes a while, almost a year in fact, but he finally feels like maybe he belongs with these boys. That maybe they're doing something special together. He bonds with Niall first, his roommate at bootcamp with the ready laugh and easygoing smile. Zayn is easy too, after he finds out that they share almost all the same interests from music to comics and movies. Harry and Louis are a little harder - they're so wrapped up in each other that it's hard to find a way in sometimes, Liam thinks. But slowly they figure it out, making baby steps together and then it's easy. It's the easiest thing in the world, Liam thinks, to belong to these boys.

It's the first time he thinks he might come around on the soulmate idea, since he's been with Dani. They've been together almost six months now, and he's so happy and in love that he thinks maybe it'd be okay to belong to someone. That maybe if this is how his mum and dad feel about each other, then maybe he's been wrong all this time. He's not looking forward to the teasing when he goes home about how terrible and vocal he's been about soulmates and how people should be able to choose who they want to be with, but it's worth it, he thinks as he twirls a strand of Dani's hair around his finger and tugs her in gently for another kiss. If he gets to do this forever.

He's only seventeen, almost eighteen, but Liam's convinced that he knows what name is going to appear on his skin in three years. It can't possibly be anyone else's, he thinks in a haze as Dani kisses his neck and moves slowly down to his chest, pressing gentle kisses as she goes. He's never seen Dani's wrist because she keeps a custom-made bracelet over the name tattooed there, but he doesn't much care. It doesn't matter if it says L-I-A-M or not, because he knows they're in love, that this is as real as the love he has for his family, as strong as the bond he feels with his boys. And he knows Dani feels the same. So it doesn't matter in the end what name appears on his skin, because he's choosing Dani. Forever.

"Move in with me," he says on impulse as Dani kisses his belly, making his muscles quiver under her touch.

She glances up, eyes shining. "Yeah," she says, and it's that simple.

Liam lies back against the pillows and smiles, closing his eyes as Dani's mouth travels further down his body. Of course it's that simple. He's chosen Dani and she's chosen him. Dani's his soulmate and he doesn't need a tattoo to tell him that.

*

They've been living together for months now, and Liam's never been happier. He's just been home for a quick visit before he walks through the door and Dani launches herself at him. Dropping his bags, he laughs as he catches her easily, twirling them around as she presses eager kisses against his lips and cheek and jaw.

He just about makes it into the bedroom before they tumble into bed and it's fast and frantic because he hasn't seen her in weeks and god, he's missed her.

Liam brings up the possibility of getting a dog together while Dani's pressed against his side, soft and warm and Liam falls a little bit more in love with her.

He's not expecting the line that appears between her eyebrows as she frowns slightly and avoids his gaze. Her fingers go to her wrist, still covered by the bracelet and Liam feels his heart thud loudly in his chest.

"Liam, that's such a big commitment," she says quietly, and well Liam knows. That's why he asked. "I don't think that it's a good idea, babe."

"And why's that?" he asks softly.

Dani moves away from him, her expression concerned as she avoids looking at him. Liam can feel his skin go cold, even though they're under the covers together.

"Liam, you must know," she says quietly, and the thing is, he didn't. He didn't know at all.

"Your wrist," he says thickly. He's never cared about what name was written on her wrist because he thought it didn't matter. Now, it matters too much. "Who's name is on there, Dani?"

She's shaking her head, looking miserable as she refuses to look at him. "Not yours," she whispers finally.

"I never cared about that," Liam says, his voice low and flat. "Never. I thought you didn't either."

"I love you," she says, her hand reaching out to touch him but Liam jerks back. The thing is, he knows she loves him. But she's still choosing some complete stranger that she hasn't even met yet over him, and that hurts worse than he could have ever imagined.

"Why did you move in with me if you were just going to leave one day?" Liam asks. He wants to cry. But he doesn't, of course. "If you believed in all that soulmate crap and you knew my name wasn't on your wrist, why did you go through with all of this?"

"I didn't know how long I'd have to wait for him," Dani says, and it's a shit answer but Liam kind of gets it in a weird kind of way. "And I fell in love with you so quickly, Liam. I wanted to have whatever I could get before ... well, before."

Before she found her soulmate. Before she chose a stranger over him, over the life they've built together. Before she discarded Liam for someone just because a tattoo on her wrist told her that she should.

He slides out of bed, fumbling for his clothes as he dresses quickly and tries not to notice Dani's tears or see the way she keeps reaching out for him, only to let her arms drop back onto the sheets.

"I've got to go," he says hoarsely, desperate to leave. To get away. "Tour. Got to get back on tour. I'll let you ... you can stay if you want but I'll be back in two weeks if you could uh, not um, be here."

He's not sure what he grabs from his dresser or his wardrobe but that's hardly important because he can borrow almost everything from one of the lads. He shoves whatever's in his hands into a bag and stumbles out of his room, closing the door firmly behind him and letting himself fall back against it for a second.

Then he's grabbing his phone, wallet and keys and heading out of their flat, _his_ flat, and dialling Harry's number because he's the first one in his phone.

"Hey Liam," Harry answers on the second ring, sounding like he's just woken up, croaky and slow. "What's up?"

"Can I stay at yours?" Liam asks, his voice thick with unshed tears that he absolutely refuses to give in to. "I can get a cab."

There's a pause before he can hear some movement down the phone. "I'll come get you."

"I'm at mine," Liam says in relief. "I'll be outside. Just, like, can you hurry?"

"I'll be there in 15 minutes," Harry promises before the line goes dead.

He pulls up in 11 minutes flat.

*

Liam stays with Harry and Louis for a few days before they head back out on tour. Neither of them say much but they've probably figured it out, since Harry insists on Liam sharing with him and curling around him every night, not letting go even when Liam fidgets, unable to sleep. He's determined not to wallow, but sometimes he can't help it and he knows he must look awful because Harry's face gets this odd, sad look on it and Louis suddenly gets frantic, grabbing at Liam and desperately trying to make him laugh.

He ends up telling them of course, two days into the tour. They're on the tour bus, not doing much of anything when he just blurts it out.

"I just thought she didn't care about the whole soulmate thing," Liam says finally. "She's choosing some complete stranger over me, over what we have," he says before he quickly corrects himself. "Had."

"Don't you then?" Niall asks quietly. He's sitting on the floor, turned towards Liam where he's sat next to Zayn, with Louis and Harry opposite.

"Not really," Liam says a little defensively. He's never really discussed it with anyone other than his family for no other reason than it's never come up. "I want to choose who I fall in love with, not just accept that someone's name appearing on my skin means that we're destined to be together forever, no questions asked."

There's complete silence in the bus.

"So you don't believe in fate?" Harry asks in disbelief. "That there's a perfect someone out there for you?"

"I don't think that's what he's saying," Zayn says slowly, although when Liam glances at him in gratitude, Zayn's frowning. "He just wants to choose that someone himself."

"Exactly," Liam says, and he's surprised, when Zayn's hand drops onto his shoulder and massages his skin gently, to realise how tense he is. He relaxes deliberately, and tries to offer his bandmates a reassuring smile.

"But what about your parents?" Niall asks, obviously trying to wrap his head around Liam's revelation. "Aren't they happy? In love? And your sisters?"

"Well yeah," Liam says. He'd never deny that his parents were in love and very happy together. "But like, are they in love because they have to be? Because their tattoos told them they had to be? Wouldn't it be better to choose the person you're in love with? To pick that person over everyone else? I think that's more romantic, really."

Liam desperately wants to drop the entire conversation because Harry looks like he's about to cry, Louis is frowning at him like Liam's being an idiot, Niall looks horribly confused and Zayn looks like he wants to hug Liam. But he's fine. He's the only sane one, as far as he's concerned.

"Let's just drop it, yeah?" Liam says quickly, seeing Louis about to say something. "I've got three more years before I have to worry about it. Maybe I'll fall in love with my soulmate before her name even appears."

And it's not very likely, but it seems to do the trick because Niall nods like he thinks that's exactly what's going to happen.

Harry still looks upset, but Liam's so tired, falling into Zayn's side and lets himself be cuddled.

*

Dani's gone by the time he gets home. He fills all the spaces she's left behind with the band's plaques and awards and pictures from their tour.

He doesn't miss her as much as he thought he would.

*

Liam carefully avoids talking about soulmates. He never answers questions about them when it's brought up in interviews, letting Harry talk wistfully about how he can't wait to find out who his soulmate is, with Louis always jumping in to tease Harry that he's only got a few months to wait while Harry has another two and a bit years.

Harry always pouts and the boys always laugh, but Liam's is always a bit forced. He tries to make up for it by pulling Harry in for a cuddle, and Harry never seems to mind, cuddling back up to Liam and pulling faces at an amused Louis.

The boys never bring it up though. At least, not in front of him. That's why it takes him by surprise when he walks in on Louis and Harry discussing his 21st birthday.

"Are you excited?" Harry asks him, his eyes bright and dreamy.

Louis coughs, obviously having seen Liam but the only concession Harry makes to acknowledging his presence is a slight tightening of his lips. "I can't wait til my 21st," Harry continues. "You're so lucky, Lou."

"Not long now," Liam says lightly. When Louis and Harry both turn towards him in surprise, Liam smiles wryly as he flops down onto Louis' bed. "Just because I don't believe in my soulmate doesn't mean I don't want you to find yours."

Harry looks like he's about to argue when Louis elbows him sharply in the ribs. "Thanks, Payno," he says easily, while Harry looks a bit cross. "Two more weeks then."

"So long as you're not going to quit the band to get married and settle down," Liam laughs. He doesn't believe Louis will for a second, but Harry's suddenly sitting up straighter and staring at Liam in horror. "No Haz, I'm kidding!"

"Lou, you're not going to leave the band, right?" Harry asks in a whisper, his eyes wide and dismayed. "You can't!"

"Of course I'm not, Harold," Louis says soothingly, petting Harry's hair with a fond smile. "My soulmate is obviously going to be wonderful and will appreciate that I have four boys who would be totally lost without my excellent leadership."

Liam rolls his eyes but he doesn't pretend not to feel a tiny weight lift off his shoulders all the same.

"Will she mind if I grope you though?" Harry asks, like this is a legitimate concern.

Louis, of course, gives it proper consideration. "Well Harry, if she's my soulmate, I'm sure she'll understand a bit of a grope between mates."

"What about sharing a bed between mates?" Liam asks. He doesn't often share with the boys, not anymore, but every now and again they'll pair off and curl up together, or fall asleep watching a movie together. He woke up just that morning with Niall all but suffocating him because he was feeling a bit homesick last night and Liam had let him stay over in his room.

"Perfectly above board, Liam," Louis says sweetly.

Liam's not so sure, but Harry looks upset enough already and there's a limit to how far he likes to push Harry.

"Besides, if she does then you'll just have to grope and cuddle Liam some more," Louis adds.

Liam catches Harry's frown before he looks away and he ignores the tiny kernel of hurt that sits right in the middle of his chest.

"Or Niall or Zayn," Liam says, desperately trying to cover the awkward silence in the room. "But I'm sure she'll be wonderful, whoever she is. And I bet she won't mind you groping everyone either."

Louis beams at him and it lifts Liam's mood a bit. Or at least until he glances at Harry and sees him still frowning slightly as he very deliberately, Liam thinks, doesn't look up.

*

Liam's never actually watched a tattoo appear on someone's skin before. They're all at Louis' place, huddled around as they wait for it to appear. Niall's been telling them that Greg said it doesn't hurt at all, it's more like a prickling sensation. Liam can tell Louis' still nervous though, unable to sit still as he keeps glancing at his arm, which remains stubbornly blank.

"My dad's is on his shoulder," Liam says when there's been a long silence.

"What?" Louis asks, jumping up and scrambling to rip off his jumper. "Really?"

"Yeah, dunno why," Liam says, because he's never really thought about it.

"Everyone I know has it on their wrist or their arm," Zayn says, helping Louis as he strips, clothes flying everywhere as arms and hands collide.

"Can you see it?" Louis asks, his voice slightly higher as he moves his arms around, trying to see.

"Hold still," Harry tells him, swatting his hands away as he takes one arm, Zayn takes the other and Niall scours his back and Liam checks his chest and tummy.

"Nothing," Niall says eventually, and Louis visibly deflates.

"It's got to happen soon, Lou," Zayn tells him, a hand rubbing his shoulder comfortingly. "Only got three hours before midnight."

"Always late, hey?" Liam teases gently, nudging Louis with his elbow. That gets a laugh and Liam's pleased, tugging Niall in for a cuddle as they fall back against the sofa together.

"Fuck!" Louis yells a second later, twisting his arm around. They all stare as faded letters appear on Louis' arm, just under his elbow. "What's it say?"

"Eleanor," Harry says in a reverential whisper.

"Eleanor," Louis repeats quietly. He repeats it, like he's testing it out, before his grin sharpens. "Eleanor. Fuck."

"Probably don't want to let the fans see that," Zayn says. Everyone spins around to look at him and he shrugs. "You'll get a million girls swearing that their name is Eleanor everywhere you go. Probably scribble your name on their skin too."

"Yeah," Louis says slowly. "Yeah, you're right. Fuck. Eleanor."

"I wonder where she is," Harry says dreamily.

"You're more excited than Tommo is, you idiot," Niall says, giving Harry a shove. It descends into a playful roll around on Louis' carpet while Liam settles himself down next to Louis and grins at him.

"How's it feel?" he asks, desperately curious. For no reason whatsoever, he thinks about Dani for a second, wondering if she's found her soulmate yet. He hopes so, he realises with a jolt.

"Weird," Louis admits, his finger tracing over the letters carefully. "Like, now I know. Every time I meet an Eleanor, I'm going to be an absolute idiot, I know I will. God, she's going to hate me."

Liam laughs gently as his hand settles over Louis' and presses down carefully. "Of course she won't," he says, never more sure of anything in his life. He can't imagine anyone not falling in love with Louis, whether it takes two seconds, like Harry, or a few weeks, like him. Loving Louis isn't really an option in life, he reckons. It's just something that happens, he's certain of that.

"We'll see," Louis says, sounding dubious. He settles into Liam's side and Liam feels the exhaustion rolling off Louis in waves, finally still.

*

Louis meets Eleanor three months later, at his local Asda. They bump into each other in the fruit and vegetable aisle, both reaching for bananas, much to Harry's delight. Louis had apologised when he'd caught sight of her wrist, the L.O.U.I.S. clearly visible.

They all giggle when El tells them about how badly Louis blushed and stammered his way through asking her for a date while Louis tells them to shut up, his hand curled around El's as she ignores him and tells them all about their first date and how Louis had been so nervous and excited that he'd knocked the candle on their table over, almost setting fire to the entire restaurant.

"But it worked out in the end," Liam says, gesturing at the two of them.

"Yeah, I guess it did," El says before she reaches over to kiss Louis' cheek.

His flush makes his bandmates laugh, poking and teasing him as he accepts it good-naturedly. He never lets go of El's hand, Liam notices. And his thumb brushes over her tattoo almost unconsciously.

He turns away, unable to watch for a moment and he catches Harry's gaze, watching him curiously.

"Alright?" Harry asks him quietly, moving into his side and linking their hands together.

"Just happy for him," Liam answers honestly. He's a bit overwhelmed with the difference in Louis already. He seems calmer, more sure of himself and a bit less manic. Not totally, to Liam's relief, but there's an edge that seems to have been smoothed over and he's happy for him. Delighted, really.

"Changed your mind about soulmates then?" Harry teases him. Liam looks up at him sharply, but Harry's smile is easy as usual.

"No," Liam answers, but he softens it with his own smile. "Mostly surprised it didn't say your name on his arm though."

Harry laughs at that, his eyes bright as he leans into Liam and nuzzles into his neck. "Never even crossed my mind," he says like he's now considering the possibility. He laughs again, amused, his breath hot against Liam's skin and making him shiver. "Less than 18 months until your name appears though. Aren't you curious?"

"Course I am," Liam says, his arm stretching around Harry to cuddle him closer. "But I want to choose who I fall in love with."

"But you will," Harry says quietly. "Because they'll be your soulmate. Perfect for you. The name just makes it easier to find them."

Liam sighs, because Harry won't ever understand. Not when he's counting down the months until his tattoo appears, refusing to date anyone because he doesn't see the point in it. After Dani, Liam can kind of see his point if he's determined to find his soulmate and no one else.

"Just don't want to belong to someone unless I choose to belong to them," Liam says tiredly. He's going to keep having this same argument with Harry over and over, until either he falls in love or Harry does and gets distracted, the way Louis' helplessly distracted by El. He'll deny it later of course, Liam thinks fondly. But they'll know.

"You belong to us," Harry points out, and Liam grins, because he's never said that out loud but it's true, nonetheless. He brushes his lips across Harry's curls and he's so grateful for Harry in that moment, that he at least understands how Liam feels about them all. "Didn't so much choose us as got stuck with us though."

"But like, not really," Liam says quietly, dipping his head down so he can speak softly just for Harry to hear. "I could have still been in this band and never really felt like I belonged. But I do. We all do. We belong to each other, really."

Harry blows a raspberry into his neck in answer and Liam laughs, shoving him away and laughing harder when Harry tumbles off the sofa, looking affronted. "Well, maybe the others, think I got stuck with you though," he teases as Harry pouts up at him.

Late that night, he lets Harry sneak into his room after everyone else has gone to sleep, looking a bit sad and lonely.

"El's in with Lou," is all he says and Liam opens the door wider, yawning as Harry shuffles in and climbs into the hotel bed. He crawls in next to him and there's an awkward moment when they're all elbows and knees bumping into each other until Liam pushes at Harry until he's on his side and he curls up behind him.

"My bed, m'big spoon," he murmurs, already half-asleep.

Harry places his hand over Liam's where it rests on his belly, entwining their fingers together. "S'nice to be the little spoon for once," he whispers back.

Liam falls asleep with a smile on his lips.

*

The touring schedule wears them down slowly until all Liam wants to do is go home and sleep. He starts dating a girl he went to school with, but he can't seem to let down his guard completely with her, not when she openly tells him that she believes in soulmates and all that crap. So they date and hang out, but Liam doesn't ask her to move in with him and he doesn't let himself fall in love.

Niall asks him one day when they're in Sydney, blissfully near to the end of their tour, if Sophia is the one. His soulmate. He's confused, until he remembers what he said all those months ago about falling in love with his soulmate before their name appears on his skin.

He pulls Niall in for a cuddle. "No, sorry Nialler," he whispers and feels Niall sigh against him, squeezing him so tightly that he can't breathe for a minute.

"Jus' want you to be happy, Payno," Niall whispers back, and Liam's too tired to argue that it's all he wants to, and not believing in soulmates is hardly condemning himself to a lifetime of misery. Instead he just pets Niall's hair and doesn't let him go. Not for hours.

*

Zayn starts dating Perrie four months before his 21st birthday. Liam can't decide if he's brave or foolish. Harry, of course, thinks it's totally romantic.

Zayn won't talk about it though. The closer it gets to his birthday, the more he clams up, disappearing for hours to talk to Perrie on the phone when they're on tour and flying her out to join them whenever he can.

Liam worries a lot because he doesn't know what Zayn's going to do if his tattoo doesn't say Perrie. He hopes they'd stay together, but he knows better than most what will probably, inevitably, happen.

They're huddled into Zayn's house on his birthday. Zayn wouldn't let Perrie come over and he's kept his family away too. He's sitting at the kitchen table, his coffee going cold as he stares down into it.

"It'll be okay," Liam tells him. Zayn looks up then, a sceptical look on his face but Liam ploughs through regardless. "I swear. Even if it doesn't say Perrie, you can still be together. There's no law that says otherwise."

"Do you know what the divorce rates are for soulmates?" Zayn asks quietly. He smiles sadly then, and Liam's heart sinks even as he feels Louis' hand drop onto his shoulder and squeeze. "One per cent. Do you know what the divorce rates are for non-soulmates? Ninety five."

"That just means there's five per cent of non-soulmates who can still make it," Liam says stubbornly. He's not sure why he keeps making such a big deal out of this whole soulmate situation, except every fibre of his being rebels against it.

Zayn just pats his hand like he knows something Liam doesn't, and suddenly Liam has to get out of there. He fucking hates these days, waiting for someone's life to change without their consent. Waiting for couples to break up just because a stupid tattoo spells out someone else's name.

He disappears outside, desperately wishing he smoked and wondering if it's too late to take it up. His mum will kill him, but he's almost 21 now. Just eight more months until his own stupid fucking tattoo day. Not that it'll make a single bit of difference to him, he swears fiercely as he starts to feel the cold and realises that he probably should have grabbed a coat. He stays as long as he can, before he's shivering and turning to head in.

"Hey," Harry says, stepping out next to him and holding out a jumper, he thinks it's maybe Niall's. Liam gratefully slips it on and lets Harry help him into a jacket too, which he's pretty sure is Harry's. "Overheard you inside, you know."

"Yeah?" Liam says, warming up quickly but he still feels horribly cold inside, like he'll never get warm again. "Look, Harry, please. Let's not argue about it today, yeah?"

Harry nudges him with his elbow, moving in until Liam sighs and pulls him in, his arm slung around Harry's waist. Harry wraps his arms around Liam's middle and rests his head on Liam's shoulder. "You're not going to be able to do this for much longer if you keep growing," Liam grumbles.

"My parents got married before they were 21," Harry says, his voice pitched lower than usual. Liam glances down at him but Harry's not looking at him. He looks older somehow, Liam realises with a start. Somehow, Harry's grown up on him, and not just physically. "Thought there was no way they'd have anyone else's names tattooed on them, so they just went ahead and got married. Had Gem before they were 21. My dad's birthday was first. When it wasn't my mum's name on his arm, they had a really rough time. But my mum told him that it'd be okay, that they were in love and that's all that matters."

Liam knows where this long-winded story is going, but Harry's voice is soothing and he lets him get to his point slowly, blinking quickly at the sharp, cold wind blowing around them.

"Then I came along. And everything was fine until my mum's tattoo showed up. They started arguing, apparently. Gem remembers some of it. My dad, he got jealous. They split up when I was eight. Both ended up with their soulmates eventually, of course."

"I'm sorry, Harry," Liam says inadequately. He's rubbish at this stuff.

"That's why I believe in soulmates," Harry adds. He gives Liam a wonky smile. "Saves the heartbreak before. Like you and Dani."

It's blunt, but he knows Harry's not trying to hurt him, even if he does feel a sharp twinge in his chest. "Or we'd still be together if she wasn't so hung up on soulmates," Liam counters quietly. He doesn't like to think about it much, how different everything would be if they were still together, had gotten that dog. Maybe bought a place together.

"Maybe," Harry says in a tone that has Liam frowning. "Or maybe not."

"Let's go back in," Liam says, unwilling to look too deeply into what Harry's insinuating. He pushes Harry towards the door gently, reluctantly amused when Harry looks back over his shoulder and pouts at him.

He's still laughing when they step into the kitchen to find Niall and Louis staring at Zayn's arm. Zayn looks up, grinning as he meets Liam's gaze.

"Oh," Liam breathes, grabbing Harry's hand and squeezing it tightly, until Harry squawks out a protest. "Shit, sorry."

"It says Perrie," Zayn says, even though Liam already knows. His grin is so wide that his face hurts, but he can't seem to stop.

"Of course it does," Liam says because it's easy to say now. It's the easiest thing in the world. "You should call her."

"Yeah," Zayn says, his voice softening. "Fuck. Yeah."

But he doesn't move, and Liam moves towards him, still holding Harry's hand and they encircle Zayn as he lets out a shaky, relieved laugh.

"See?" Niall whispers in his ear. "It can happen, Payno."

The thing is, Liam's certain it's not going to happen before he turns 21. He's got eight months, and they're on tour for most of that. There's almost zero chance that it's going to happen. But Niall looks so happy that he can't bring himself to drag the mood down. Besides, he's not worried. It won't matter who's name appears on his skin. He's going to fall in love when he's good and ready, and not because a tattoo tells him he should.

*

Liam spends the day before his 21st birthday with his parents and his sisters and their husbands and it's exhausting. He loves them, but he's spent so much time away from them that seeing everyone at once is a bit much. The thing is, since Zayn and Louis have found their soulmates, he's starting to notice things he'd never noticed before, not until he was faced with two sickeningly in love mates who try not to be obvious about it but still. They can't seem to help it.

Like, he'd never noticed before how often soulmates touch each other. He's watched his parents all day, and every time they're in the room together, they gravitate towards each other, his mum's palm flat on his dad's shoulder, his hand on her wrist.

When it's time to drive home, he leaves with a sigh of relief and checks his phone. He's got sixteen missed calls from the boys between them, which probably means bad news.

He calls Zayn first from the car, unsurprised when he doesn't pick up. Niall does and Liam immediately regrets returning the call.

"Payno! Your birthday tomorrow!" Niall shouts down the phone, like Liam's possibly forgotten his own birthday. He grins as he checks his mirror and moves across a lane to overtake before slotting neatly back into the left lane. "We're coming over, yeah? Been forever since I've seen your handsome face!"

"Three weeks, Niall," Liam reminds him dryly. Just a mini-break in the middle of their tour to allow them to recharge and have a little space before they start trying to kill each other. "But yeah, cool. Come over in the evening, yeah? We'll go out. Get trashed."

There's a long silence on the other end of the phone before Niall sighs heavily and Liam feels his disappointment all the way to his toes. "Liam. Your tattoo. Your soulmate. You can't still be anti-soulmates, not when you're about to find out who you're meant to be with."

Liam's too tired to argue. "S'not important," is all he manages. "C'mon Nialler, let's just go out and get drunk and do stupid shit."

"Fuck off," Niall says succinctly, but it makes Liam laugh anyway. "We're all coming over tonight, Liam, and I want chinese. Order extra ribs."

Resigned, Liam agrees before he rings off. And wonders if he's got clean sheets for his guest room.

*

He's in the kitchen making tea when his arm starts to itch. He rubs at his forearm absently, humming as he pours the boiling water into five mugs and appreciating the few minutes silence, since the boys haven't left his side for almost 24 hours now. He's had almost the perfect birthday, just staying in and watching movies, giggling with his best mates and yelling loudly when they play on the Playstation. Only the occasional look he gets from one of them when they think they're being subtle spoils his mood, reminding him of why they're even there together.

Liam's just put the kettle down when he feels a stabbing pain in his arm that makes him hiss, his hand clamping down over the heated skin as his heart starts to pound and he feels a bit sick, but he's almost certain it's not from the pain.

When it finally eases off, he stares down at his hand, almost white where he's holding on so tight. He knows it's stupid not to look, since the tattoo is hardly going to change, but he just needs a moment to process that it's really happened.

It's not going to change his mind, he's certain of that. But he'll know. The boys will know. The world will know, as soon as a camera gets a clear enough shot.

Twisting his arm, he looks down.

H.A.R.R.Y.

"Hey, what's taking so long?" Zayn asks as he appears in the doorway, hair mused because Niall's been running his fingers through it for the past hour. "Liam?"

His hand smacks down over the tattoo. He's having trouble breathing and his vision's gone a bit blurry. He feels an arm curl around him, guiding him gently down the hall and into his bedroom. He lies down and Zayn closes the curtains before he climbs onto the bed with him.

"Do you want to talk?" Zayn murmurs, his hand curling around Liam's hip and holding on tight.

"Not really," Liam manages to say, his head still spinning. There's a chance it doesn't mean _his_ Harry, he thinks desperately. There's never been anything between them like that. Not a single moment in all their time together where Liam's thought about Harry as anything other than, well, Harry. There are literally thousands of Harry's in the world, anyway. It can't possibly be _his_ Harry.

He's still staring up at the ceiling a few hours later, Zayn sleeping quietly next to him. Every time he closes his eyes, he sees Harry's name tattooed across his arm so that's probably got something to do with why he's still wide awake, his heart beating loudly in his chest and unable to relax.

Liam just keeps trying to picture them together, but the image won't appear in his mind. It can't be his Harry, he tells himself over and over like a mantra. It just can't.

But he still can't sleep.

*

Liam's taken to wearing long-sleeved shirts, even though it's still humid and far too warm. The boys had asked him about the tattoo, but he'd kept quiet and refused to answer and they'd eventually stopped asking. He could see the confusion on their faces but he couldn't tell them what name was written on his arm, not when they'd be convinced that he and Harry were meant to be together, only to have it be horribly awkward when Harry's tattoo reads someone else's name and not Liam's.

He's only got to wait another five months.

Luckily everyone's been distracted by Niall's tattoo, which appeared right on time, looking darker against his pale skin. When it had appeared, everyone had stared in shock before bursting into laughter.

"Jesus Niall, I know you love yourself a lot but really? Your soulmate is _yourself_?" Louis burst into laughter while Niall scowled at him.

"Of course not," he mutters, his fingernail scratching at the tattoo like it'd been a mistake and would come off.

But N.I.A.L.L had remained there, dark and imposing on his forearm as Niall started freaking out about what the papers would say.

"Fuck, it actually looks like I love myself," Niall curses, pacing up and down his living room while the boys all watched from their position on the sofa, all tucked together. Liam had carefully avoided sitting next to Harry, something he'd taken to doing recently just to prove to himself that he wasn't in love with Harry, that the whole soulmate thing was clearly ridiculous and even if he did end up with a Harry, it wasn't going to be _his_ Harry.

"Bressie," Zayn mutters, so quietly that only Liam catches it. His lips twitch because he wants to laugh, but of course he doesn't. He's not really met Bressie before, just caught him on the odd Skype session with Niall and waved awkwardly and secretly been a little in love with him from afar because Bressie is beautiful and he thinks maybe everyone is secretly in love with him.

"Should we tell him?" Liam asks. Niall's currently got his hands in the air as he's cursing and Liam has no trouble at all picturing him with Bressie. Bressie, who is tall and broad and dark where Niall is small and a bit scrawny and so fair.

"Think he'll figure it out when he calms down," Zayn answers, his voice still pitched low as Niall passes in front of them. They all watch, transfixed, as Niall strides past twice more before he pauses.

Liam hides his grin as Niall turns towards them, his eyes comically wide as he makes the oddest little squawking noise.

"Think he's got it," Zayn murmurs.

"Bressie," Niall breathes out, almost reverently. "Fuck, what if it's Bressie?"

"I reckon the odds are pretty high, mate," Louis says, reaching out for Niall's phone where it's lying on the coffee table and throwing it to Niall, who catches it instinctively. "Only one way to find out."

"He'd have mentioned it if he had Niall written on his arm," Niall mutters, staring at his phone in bewilderment. "Right?"

When he looks up, looking lost and very, very small for a moment, Liam has to fight the urge to get up and wrap him in a huge cuddle and protect him from the world. Then again, maybe he's projecting a little because his own tattoo feels horribly warm and itchy right now. His eyes slide across to Harry, who's curled into Louis' side and watching Niall with a vaguely worried expression.

He forces his gaze back towards Niall, his hand reaching out to blindly grab at Zayn's and squeezing so tightly that he hears Zayn's quick exhale of breath.

"Call him," Liam says, and if his voice sounds a bit off, no one seems to notice. He does loosen his hold on Zayn though, giving him an apologetic smile.

"Okay," Niall says, almost to himself as he finds Bressie's number and dials. He shoots them a panicked look as Bressie answers. "Uh, Brez? It's Niall. Yeah, thanks man. Uh, so this funny thing happened."

He pauses, sinking down onto the floor as he closes his eyes. "Fuck. Why the fuck didn't you _say_ anything?"

Liam and Zayn exchange a fistbump as Liam feels a bit of tension seep out of his body.

"Fuck, Brez. Just, fuck," Niall says, and then suddenly he's laughing and wiping his hand over his eyes and Liam knows it's going to be okay. "I can't believe you never mentioned it, you wanker. You in London then?"

"Probably our cue to leave then lads," Louis says, standing up and stretching as he yawns widely. "Zayn, I'll give you a lift back to yours?"

"Yeah man," Zayn says, and Liam knows by the completely unsubtle way that they're grinning at each other that they'll be up for hours still, smoking and giggling into each other's shoulders.

"I can take you home," Harry says, reaching out to poke Liam in the side. He moves instinctively, his hand coming up to grab Harry's before he's even realised it. Then he's stuck there, feeling horribly awkward because he's got Harry's hand in his and all he can think about is his dumb tattoo. "Yeah?"

Liam can't think of a single reason to say no, so he nods slowly, flashing Harry a weak smile.

Niall's still on the phone, waving to them with a cheerful, slightly manic grin as they head out. "Yeah, come over yeah? It's just me. Wanna see you. Yeah. Fuck, Brez, yeah. Hurry, yeah?"

They pile through the door and say quick goodbyes, all eager to be long gone before Brez turns up. Liam slides into Harry's passenger seat, giving him a quick smile as he fastens his seatbelt and settles back against the cool leather.

Harry pulls away smoothly, filtering into the late night London traffic with something soft playing through the speakers; one of Harry's new bands, Liam thinks idly as he finds the beat and taps along unthinkingly.

"Bit of a surprise then," Harry says, breaking the silence.

"Yeah," Liam says. "But like, I think Niall's pleased about it."

"Well yeah," Harry says dryly, glancing at Liam with a wicked grin. "Have you seen Bressie? I'd be happy if my soulmate was half as lovely as him."

The thought makes Liam feel a bit sick, really. "Yeah," he answers faintly.

"Doesn't it make you change your mind though?" Harry asks. Liam frowns, his hand moving to rest over his tattoo, carefully covered by his shirt. "Like, when you think about it, Niall and Bressie are probably perfect for each other. Doesn't it even make you curious about yours?"

"No," Liam says, perhaps a little sharply judging by the way Harry's face flickers before he turns his concentration back onto the road. "Look, Harry, I'm not going to change my mind. I want to fall in love because I choose to, not because there's a name scrawled on my arm. Nothing's changed."

"Well, I can't wait," Harry says. His mouth has tightened and Liam can sense the tension in his body, can feel it in his own as well.

The silence drags out between them, uncomfortable in a way that it's never been before. Liam tries to ignore it by staring out into the street they're passing, but his tattoo is itching like mad and he turns to Harry. "What if you get a really common name on your arm?" he asks. It's been bugging him, how many Harry's there are out in the world and how even if he believed in soulmates, how he'd be expected to find his Harry among them. "How do you know which one is yours?"

Harry doesn't answer for a minute, and Liam waits patiently. "I reckon you just know," he says finally, glancing at Liam for a second before he turns back to the road and they make a left turn. "They're your soulmate, right? The person you're meant to be with forever. You'd recognise them, I think."

"Yeah," Liam says softly. It makes sense, he thinks. Just another reason why his soulmate can't be Harry, because he's definitely never had that moment of recognition. And Harry's certainly never had it for him, because he'd know. Harry wouldn't be able to hide it, not for long.

Harry pulls up outside his place and parks by the curb, turning to look at Liam. "It's alright, you know," he says, reaching out for Liam's hand and tangling their fingers together, coaxing a smile out of Liam. "We'll find her, your soulmate. I promise."

He looks so earnest, Liam realises, his face softening as he reaches up with his other hand to tuck a stray curl behind Harry's ear, his thumb lingering over Harry's cheek for a second. He pulls back, pulling his hands free and reaching for the door. "It's a him," he says quietly, determinedly not looking at Harry before he slides out and closes the door behind him and walks calmly through the lobby, not looking back as he hears the car slowly pull away.

Liam walks through his front door and drops his keys and wallet on the table, heading straight to his bedroom and stripping as he steps into his en-suite and turns on the shower. Under the hot, almost scalding water, he watches as streams of water pour down his arm, over the H.A.R.R.Y. tattoo that has been keeping him up more nights than not. His greatest fear, if he lets himself think about it, is that Harry will wake up on his 21st birthday with L.I.A.M. written on his skin. The thought that keeps him up at night, unable to sleep and restless, is that Harry will spend his life thinking that he's in love with Liam when Liam knows he isn't, simply because a tattoo tells him that he should be.

Liam's greatest fear is breaking Harry's heart because he knows they're not right for each other.

When he climbs into bed, tired and angry and frustrated, he's got one message on his phone.

_Harry: We'll find him, mate. I promise.xx_

Liam's only worry is that he already has.

*

Liam's been feeling sick for the past week. His throat keeps closing up and he feels too hot all the time. His tattoo has been itchy as hell and he hasn't been able to spend more than five minutes in a room with Harry because he thinks he might throw up with nerves.

Luckily Harry's been so excited about his birthday that he hasn't noticed, but Zayn's been throwing him curious looks that Liam's been steadfastly ignoring. They're holed up in Harry's home and Niall's been talking about Bressie for the past twenty minutes, something about a song he's written that Niall's raving about with that look he gets in his eyes only when he's talking about his boyfriend.

What's currently making Liam feel a bit ill is the way Harry's looking at Niall with so much hope and expectation for his own soulmate. He's got twenty minutes before Harry's birthday starts, then hopefully this sick feeling will disappear once Harry gets his tattoo and it doesn't spell out his own name.

He's been watching Harry discreetly for months now, making sure that Harry doesn't treat him any differently to the rest of the lads. And he doesn't, Liam's quite sure of that. Harry doesn't look at him more often, or with anything other than fondness or exasperation in his eyes. There's no lingering touches and Harry's eyes don't fall to stare at Liam's mouth the way Zayn's do with Perrie or the way Louis' hand always lingers on El's waist for as long as possible.

"What's up?" Zayn murmurs, leaning in close so no one else will overhear.

Liam sighs and snuggles in closer to Zayn's side, his head dropping onto his shoulder as Zayn's up comes up around him. "What's he gonna do if his soulmate is a dick?" Liam asks quietly. He doesn't say that _he_ might end up being that dick if fate really does hate him as much as he suspects it might. "He looks so excited."

"Nah mate," Zayn says, his fingers brushing under Liam's shirt sleeve and stroking his wrist, calming his frazzled nerves. "It's Harry, innit? Probably end up with some ridiculous soppy partner who's as romantic and corny as he is."

Liam feels even worse. He'd be a terrible match for Harry, and surely the world knows that. If his name appears on Harry's arm, Harry's going to end up hating him, and he knows he can't live with that. But he can't fake a relationship that's not based on actual feelings either. He feels torn in two and all he can do is hope.

He strokes his tattoo under the soft cotton on his shirt before he stands up to go to the kitchen, just so he doesn't have to watch Harry anymore because every second feels worse than the one before. Twenty minutes, he reminds himself as he flicks the kettle on for a cup of tea that he doesn't want, probably won't drink but will distract him for at least five blissful minutes.

"Hey."

Liam feels like crying for one horrible moment before he fixes a smile and turns around to look at Harry, who looks tired and excited and curious, all at once.

"Sorry about all this," Harry says. Liam must look confused because Harry steps in closer and reaches out for his wrist, his large hand circling it easily. "Going on about soulmates. You must hate it."

Liam has to clear the lump in his throat before he can find his voice again. "Nah, I'm excited for you," he says, desperately wanting to mean it. Overcome, he drags Harry in for a hug and holds on much tighter than he thinks he ever has before, even harder than when they were on X Factor or those nights on their first tour when they both suffered so much with homesickness. "You deserve someone amazing, Harry. I hope you know that, whoever's name appears on your skin."

"Liam," Harry says, an odd tone to his voice.

"No, come on," Liam says, his voice a bit thick as he closes his eyes and breathes in deeply. If the worst happens and his name appears on Harry's skin, they'll never have this again, this closeness. Harry will want more and Liam knows he won't because Harry's feelings won't be real. Harry will end up hating him and Liam will end up not trusting anything Harry says and everything between them will be ruined and awful.

He wants to cry.

"I hope you end up with your soulmate," Liam says fiercely, never meaning anything as much as he means this. "But don't be afraid to make your own choice, yeah? If you want to. Or if your soulmate is a bit of a dick."

"Hey, that's my future husband or wife you're talking about," Harry murmurs, but his grip tightens around Liam and suddenly Liam feels 16 again, lost and confused and desperately holding onto normality before everything started changing.

Liam drags in a shaky breath and pulls back, unable to manage a smile because he feels so fucking wobbly. "Love you," he says, hoping it's not the last time Harry lets him say it. Hoping it's not the last time he feels comfortable saying it. Oh god. He runs his hands over Harry's arms, ignoring Harry's surprised look. He just wants to touch him. He _needs_ to touch him. To remember everything.

Just in case.

"Liam, I'm not going anywhere," Harry tells him, bemused but indulgent. Always indulgent, Liam thinks helplessly. He can't explain to Harry why he's being a complete idiot right now but when someone else's name appears tomorrow, he'll show them his tattoo and they'll all laugh about how worried he was and of course his soulmate Harry wasn't going to be _their_ Harry. He's almost looking forward to it, in fact.

"I know," Liam answers. He drops Harry's hand and moves back, tea forgotten. "Think it's time for me to turn in then."

He all but runs to Harry's spare room where he finds solitude, if not peace.

*

It happens at midday. He's been expecting it for over five months, but he's not ready when it happens. He's kicking a football around in the garden with Niall, Louis having popped inside to check up on Harry when there's a yell from Harry. Liam freezes while Niall lets out a whoop and starts inside, turning around when he reaches the door to look quizzically at Liam.

"You coming, mate?" he asks.

Liam can't move though, torn between needing to know and not wanting to know.

"LIAM!"

Louis' shout makes his heart stop for a beat before it starts to race, and he _knows_. He fucking knows. His hand moves to his arm, where his tattoo burns hot under his shirt and he sinks to his knees as Niall starts to move towards him, a worried look on his face.

Niall just reaches him, a hand on his shoulder when Louis appears at the door, eyes bright as he stares at Liam almost in disbelief.

"Liam James Payne," he says, moving towards them as Niall tries to pull Liam to his feet.

"Liam what's going on?" Niall asks, rubbing his hands over Liam's arms because Liam can't seem to stop trembling.

"Tell me it's not," Liam pleads when Louis gets close enough. It stops Louis in his tracks, his expression changing to one of confusion. "Please Lou, tell me it doesn't say my name."

"Of course it does," Louis says, but it's softer than Liam had expected. "What does your tattoo say, Liam?"

All Liam can do is shake his head even as he silently begs Louis to tell him that he's joking. That this can't be true. That it's all a big prank.

"Where is he?" Liam asks. Louis nods his head inside. "Is he freaking out?"

Louis cocks his head and reaches out for Liam's hand. "No," he says simply.

Liam's not sure what to do with that but he stumbles inside anyway, finding a shirtless Harry in his bedroom with Zayn, who looks about as confused as Niall did. He steps out of the room, giving Liam a look that promises a long chat later, but he closes the door behind him, giving them privacy for this conversation that Liam never, ever wanted to have.

"They're common names," is the first thing he blurts out. The words hang in the air between them as Harry looks up, looking far calmer than Liam thought he'd be. His gaze drops to Harry's shoulder, where the tattoo draws him like a target. It's his name, he thinks dazedly, still surprised when he shouldn't be.

God he wants to touch it. Trace it with his finger. _His_ name, on Harry's skin.

An unexpected and unfamiliar feeling sweeps over him.

"You've had my name on you all this time," Harry says, and he sounds more curious than anything. "Show me?"

Resigned, Liam rolls up his shirt sleeves, feeling somewhat relieved. Harry stands up and moves closer, his finger tracing the script with his name, goosebumps appearing over Liam's skin as he shivers.

"It's just a coincidence," Liam says desperately. He needs Harry to understand so that they can still be friends. So that they can still be _them_.

"Last night," Harry murmurs. "You knew my tattoo was going to say Liam."

"Hoped it wouldn't," Liam mutters. When Harry jerks back though, Liam reaches out quickly, drawing him back in so they're inches apart, his hand around Harry's wrist to keep him close. "For your sake, Harry. You can't believe that I'm your soulmate."

"You were saying goodbye," Harry says slowly, his eyebrows knitting together as he frowns at Liam, his hand unerringly settling on Liam's tattoo without even looking. "You were saying goodbye to me, right? How was that going to work since we're in a band and all?"

"Not like, I just thought you might think that your Liam was me, when it's obviously not," Liam says weakly. He keeps searching Harry's face, trying to read where this is going, but Harry's face is for once totally closed to him. "Like, we'd be awful together. We _are_ awful together. But your Liam, whoever he is, he's going to be great. Perfect. We'll find him, yeah?"

"Okay," Harry says.

"Okay," Liam repeats blankly. He stares at Harry in confusion, watching as Harry steps back, his normal, easy smile playing on his lips.

Liam can't stop staring.

"We'll find my Liam," Harry says, like they're making an actual plan to find Liams. "And maybe your Harry will turn up too and you'll fall in love."

"Yeah," Liam says faintly. It's not going to happen that way, at least not for him, and for the first time he gets an odd twist in his belly and he feels something like disappointment.

"But we're okay, yeah?" Harry asks carefully. He looks worried, and Liam does what he always does when Harry's worried, and tugs him in for a hug.

"Course we are," Liam says. If okay means that Liam wants to trace Harry's tattoo, the most permanent one he'll ever have that will always spell out his name, even if it's not intended for him. If okay means that Liam's already unreasonably jealous of whoever Harry's Liam will be. If okay means he's selfishly hoping that Harry doesn't find his Liam for a while, if he can pretend for just a little while that he could be good enough for Harry. If okay means that for the first time, he almost wishes that he believed in soulmates because it'd be so easy to let himself fall in love with Harry and have Harry believe that he's in love with Liam, so they can be together forever.

But of course he can't say any of those things, so instead he pulls back, gives Harry his best, brightest smile and they head out together, hand-in-hand, to explain that it's just a crazy coincidence and of course they aren't destined to be together. And that Liam still doesn't believe he's destined to end up with anyone called Harry.

Louis thinks they're idiots, Niall looks heartbroken and Zayn doesn't say much of anything, just smokes twice as much and calls Perrie twice. It's a long night.

*

In the morning, it's a rush to get out of Harry's house and to their day of interviews halfway across London. They skid past Paul with seconds to spare, all waving and cheering as they shove and push each other and disappear into hair and makeup.

"Gonna split you up for the day," Paul says as he pokes his head around the door. "Decide who's going with who."

"Think we'll let the lovebirds pair up today," Louis says, grabbing Zayn and Niall by the hand and yanking them towards Paul.

Liam glares at him but Paul just guides them out together, used to Louis' weirdness. "You two need to be ready in three minutes."

They both roll their eyes at each other and Liam laughs, grateful that it's Harry he's not in love with. When they sit together, angled at the interviewer chair, Liam lets his arm rest along the back of the chair and Harry leans back. It's the most natural thing in the world to let his hand drape over Harry's shoulder, something they've done a million times before, and it doesn't mean anything different this time, Liam tells himself. Not even if, about three interviews in, Harry moves closer and Liam's hand slips a bit lower, almost right over Harry's soulmate tattoo. His thumb traces an imaginary L over Harry's shirt, brushing over soft cotton as Harry hums next to him while they wait for the fourth interviewer to arrive. He lets himself trace the tattoo like he's been itching to since the moment it appeared. He tells himself it's just curiosity, and it's not even intimate since they're not even skin to skin.

He tells himself that it's just the hype that surrounds soulmates, that you're expected to fall immediately in love the moment you find your soulmate. He just has to be strong enough fight that expectation because he knows he and Harry aren't suddenly in love after five years, simply because two words have been tattooed on their bodies.

But he doesn't move his arm for the rest of the interviews.

*

They're back on tour a few days later and it doesn't take long for them to drift away, a tactic they learned during their Take Me Home tour to stop fights and tensions from developing. Even before their first show, Louis and Zayn head out to get more tattoos and Niall disappears with Sean, who's flown out with them for a few weeks. Liam knows Harry's off to play golf with some friends so he thinks he might find Josh and see if he fancies a workout, or maybe see if Lou fancies shopping.

"Hey." Harry pops his head around the door. He's dressed for golf in his tailored trousers and blue polo shirt, his curls tied back. "You wanna join us?"

Liam blinks in surprise because Harry hasn't invited him to play golf in almost two years. His hand falls over his tattoo, covering it unconsciously.

"I'm not asking because I think you're going to fall in love with me on the ninth hole," Harry says easily, his eyebrows raised as he looks pointedly at Liam's hand.

"Oh," Liam says, flushing as he moves his hand away, tucking it behind his back. "Uh, thanks mate but I think I'm going to stay here and chill out for a bit, enjoy the peace before tomorrow."

"Alright," Harry says, and Liam thinks his smile is a little disappointed but he's probably reading too much into it. "I'll see you later, yeah? Should be back before dinner if you want to go grab something."

"Yeah," Liam says, because he can't keep looking for a motive into everything Harry does. "Yeah, that'd be good. Text me when you're on your way back."

Harry shoots him a grin before he closes the door behind him, leaving Liam standing alone in the bunks before he grabs his phone to call Lou.

*

They end up going out for dinner alone, as the others aren't back by the time Harry turns up, looking a big smug with his win. They sneak out and find a quiet restaurant where they don't get recognised.

Liam's amused by the romantic setup, with a lit candle in the middle and low lighting. "Good thing no one knows about our tattoos," he teases Harry as they take their seats and pick up their menus. "Seeing as we're on a romantic date together."

Harry grins as he glances up. "Does that mean you're buying me dinner, Liam?"

"Thought you were buying me dinner, since you invited me out," Liam says, pleased when Harry laughs.

"Well, I would but then you might think I'm actually trying to date you," Harry teases, looking back down at his menu.

The waiter appears to take their drinks order and Harry cheerfully orders a beer. "Since I'm legal now and everything."

"Yeah, like you've not been drinking here since you were 17," Liam mutters under his breath. When the waiter steps away, Liam leans in again. "Besides, unless you try and play footsie with me, I won't think of this as a date."

He's unsurprised when Harry hooks his ankle around Liam's deliberately and they both laugh. "You're such an idiot," Liam murmurs, picking up his menu again as his pulse speeds up slightly. He knows he's going to have the pasta, but he needs to distract himself for a minute or two because he hasn't moved his foot away but neither has Harry.

Not that they need to because it's not a date.

They wind up staying much later than usual, only interrupted twice for photos. Both times Liam gets up to stand with the girl behind Harry, his hand resting on Harry's shoulder. It's coincidental that it's the shoulder with his tattoo, but Liam's hand still curls over it a little possessively, Harry leaning back into his touch.

And both times when he sits back down, Harry's foot hooks around his ankle again. It's not a date, but Liam almost half-wishes it was.

*

Harry insists on hitting a club in New York, since it's the first time they've all been legally allowed to go out and drink in America. Paul smuggles them to a low-key club and it's not long before they're all tipsy, not with Louis buying round after round with a bright grin and thoroughly relaxed in a way Liam hasn't seen him be in a few years now.

It's infectious.

"Love you Tommo," Liam slurs slightly as he presses a sloppy kiss against Louis' cheek, giggling when Louis grabs at him and pulls him onto his lap.

"You're a terrible lightweight, Payno," Louis declares drunkenly. "Where are the rest of the lads then?"

"Well, Zayn's right here," Liam says solemnly, poking at Zayn's cheek as he grins, sitting next to Louis at their private table. "Niall and Harry are somewhere over there." He gestures over his back, turning around to see if he can see them. Niall catches his eye first, chatting to two girls just off the dancefloor, lifting his hand to wave at them. Liam raises his hand in answer, blowing Niall a few exaggerated kisses that Niall pretends to catch and swoon over, much to the girls' delight. Liam's still laughing when he turns and sees Harry's hands waving around in the air, the rest of him hidden among the throng on the dancefloor.

"You think he's alright out there?" Liam turns and asks Zayn quite seriously, gesturing towards Harry's errant hands.

Zayn gives him an incredulous look while Louis elbows him and does some funny move with his head that has Zayn's expression easing into concern. "Uh, I dunno Liam. Maybe you should go check he's okay."

"Yeah, make sure no boys or girls not called Liam are hitting on him," Louis adds gravely.

"Yeah," Liam says, sitting up a bit straighter and looking over towards Harry's hands anxiously. "Yeah, he should only be hitting on boys called Liam. He might have forgotten if he's too drunk."

"Best go remind him, babe," Zayn says, reaching over to pat Liam's hand gently.

"Okay," Liam says with a firm nod of his head before he gets to his feet, slightly wobbly, and heads into the hot, sweaty crowd in search of Harry.

When he eventually finds him, he's got a girl hanging off his arm and a guy pressed up too closely to his side. Liam's eyes narrow and he slides into Harry's space, grinning up at him, unbearably giddy when Harry's face brightens at his appearance.

"Liam!" Harry yells over the music. "Liam, meet my new friends!"

Liam thinks for a second before he leans down towards the girl with a grin. "Hey babe," he says sweetly. "Harry's soulmate might be a bit mad if he sees you with him."

"Oh," she says, before what he's said filters through and she's up on her tiptoes, trying to see over the crowd. "Oh god is he here? Who is he?"

"It's a secret," Liam tells her with a wink. "But he's really, really jealous, and you don't want Harry to get in trouble, do you babe?"

"Oh no," she says quickly, her hand dropping from Harry's arm as she sends him a shy smile. "No of course not."

"I think Niall and the others are over there though, you can probably get some pictures with them if you ask," he tells her, and she's gone before he can finish his sentence.

Feeling a bit smug, Liam moves into Harry's side, feeling even better when Harry's arm easily falls over his shoulders, pleasantly heavy and warm, even though he's too hot already. He leans over Harry to smile at the guy still pressed up against Harry. His smile is all teeth and it's deliberately predatory. "Hey, what's your name?"

The guy obviously recognises him, his own grin widening as his gaze travels down Liam's body, taking in the tight white t-shirt and skinny blue jeans that he wears almost like a uniform now. "James," he says, just loud enough for Liam to hear.

Liam's hand closes around Harry's arm, tugging him free. "Sorry mate, that's not his soulmate's name and Harry's a one-guy man."

He can see the guy's about to argue when Harry falls into Liam, giggling and wrapping his arms around Liam possessively. "M'a one guy man, Liam," he murmurs against Liam's neck, his lips moving against Liam's skin. "Just one guy for me. M'soulmate."

"I know, babe," Liam says, his smile a bit wonky. "You've always said."

"Yeah," Harry says before he starts giggling and his head drops onto Liam's shoulder. "Always knew it. You'll have to save me, Liam. Make sure I find the right Liam."

"Course you will," Liam says, steering Harry through the crowd of bodies and towards the exit. He's not sure why he doesn't just take Harry back to the others, but he finds Paddy and they're quickly ushered into a car, heading back to the hotel alone. Harry's slumped half-over his lap and Liam's got his hand tangled in Harry's hair, not really petting it or stroking it, just resting there gently.

When they stumble upstairs together, ignoring Paddy's groans and sighs as he tries to keep them moving instead of stopping, which Liam's in favour of because the hotel keeps spinning and he keeps losing his balance, Harry practically climbs onto his back, slumped over him as Liam, with Paddy's help, drags him along.

"Yours or mine?" Liam asks, his breathing a bit ragged from the strain of pulling a completely uncooperative Harry along.

"Yours," Harry says firmly, his head lifting for a moment before it falls back against Liam's shoulder. "Your bed smells like you."

Liam's not entirely sure why that's relevant, but since his room is closer, he's not going to complain. He manages to thank Paddy and wish him a goodnight before he pulls Harry the rest of the way and watches with a wince as Harry falls heavily onto the mattress, face first. It's another twenty minutes before he's stripped Harry to his boxers, undressed himself and brushed his teeth and tried unsuccessfully to force a glass of water down a snoring Harry's throat.

He gets into bed, unsurprised when Harry snuggles into his side, snuffling loudly before he settles down with a soft whine.

Liam tries not to worry about whether Harry's Liam will know that Harry needs to be cuddled when he's drunk, and how he likes his hair stroked when he's hungover. Maybe he should start a list of things for Harry's soulmate so that it's a smooth transition over, he thinks.

But tonight, he's filling in for Harry's soulmate so he places his hand on Harry's flat, toned belly. And after twenty minutes of listening to Harry's breathing and not being able to fall asleep, his hand moves over Harry's skin almost helplessly, seeking out his soulmate tattoo. His hand finds it unerringly and he starts to trace the lettering.

He's asleep before he finishes tracing the I.

*

They're two weeks into the tour before someone spots his tattoo with a clear enough photo to make out Harry's name. It sparks a media frenzy that makes life far too difficult for a time, with their every move tracked by paps until Harry's photographed sunbathing with a very long, telescopic lens, his L.I.A.M tattoo clear, even through the grainy picture.

Paul's mostly annoyed that neither of them mentioned the tattoos to him, even as Liam's trying to talk him into releasing a statement about how it's a terrible coincidence and they're not soulmates.

"Are we still doing this?" Louis asks, lounging on the sofa behind where Liam and Paul are standing in the tourbus. They're virtually cut off from the world at the moment, with each trip out more dangerous than the last since the pictures hit the internet. Fans and paparazzi swam around them in ever increasing numbers and the only thing stopping Zayn from hitting a pap was Louis' hand around his fist, and Niall's been trampled twice.

"Doing what?" Liam asks, turning around to glare at Louis. He's tired and frustrated and all he wants to do is go hide in his bunk. But they can't go on with this level of speculation and interest, so a press release is the only way he can see them moving forward.

"Pretending that you and Harry aren't in love with each other," Louis answers, yawning as he curls up onto his side and closes his eyes like he's bored with the conversation. "It's getting a bit ridiculous, you know."

"We're not," Liam says tiredly.

"Oh really?" Louis says, opening his eyes and sitting up, glaring at Liam. Neither of them notice as Paul slips out. "This anti-soulmate shit is getting a bit old, Liam. You're making Harry miserable, and why? So you can be right about your stupid free will idea? Do you think I'm so stupid that I'm just choosing to believe that I'm in love with El then? Harry was right. Your tattoo just makes it easier to find your soulmate. I'd still have fallen in love with El regardless of the tattoo, and you're being a fucking twat about everything. Harry keeps cries on my shoulder about being alone because you're a fucking arsehole."

Liam's chest hurts as he stares in Louis in disbelief. "He's just upset that he hasn't found his Liam yet. But he will. I'll help," Liam says desperately. God, he can't stomach the idea of Harry crying, even though he knows Harry isn't crying over him. Harry _can't_ be crying over him.

"For fucks sake, Liam," Louis says, getting to his feet and stepping into Liam's space, jabbing his finger into Liam's chest hard and making him stumble back. " _You_ are his Liam. You can't seriously believe that there's another Harry out there for you and another Liam out there for him? You love him. You're just being fucking stubborn about it and I'm tired of it. Niall's tired of it and Zayn's tired of it. The world knows, Liam. Just man up and admit you love him."

Liam steps forward, making Louis move back this time. "Harry's not in love with me," he says carefully and firmly, so Louis will understand him this time because apparently he's not being clear enough. "And I'm definitely not in love with Harry."

There's a horrible silence in the air as Louis sucks in a harsh breath. "Harry ..."

"Paul says you want to release a statement," Harry says from behind him.

For some reason Liam feels like wincing, even though he's done nothing wrong. He and Harry _aren't_ in love, and Harry knows that, even if the other boys don't understand. He turns slowly to see Harry standing in the doorway, looking small somehow against the frame. "I think it's for the best," Liam says slowly, and Harry nods once, a quick jerk of his head.

"I'll let Paul know then," he says before he disappears, leaving Liam staring after him, the feeling like he's done something wrong growing like an aching abyss inside of him.

"You're a fucking idiot, Payno. I love you, but you're a fucking idiot," Louis mutters from behind him.

He's got a horrible, aching feeling that Louis might be right.

*

Liam watches Harry disappear for what feels like the millionth time since Paul sent out the press release.

"You look awful," Niall tells him cheerfully, and Liam drags his gaze away from the empty doorway.

"Cheers mate," he says somewhat flatly. He can't stop thinking about Louis telling him how the boys all think he's wrong and stupid, and right now he can't exactly disagree with them.

"Only three more days, then we can all go home and get some fucking sleep," Niall tells him, nudging him with his foot. They're on the long sofa in the tour bus and all Liam wants to do is drag Harry down onto it with him and snuggle into his shoulder while they laugh about how stupid this all is.

"He's ignoring me," Liam says after a beat. He hates it. He hates feeling like he's missing a part of himself when Harry's not around.

"Can you blame him?" Niall asks quietly. He offers Liam a small smile and a pat on the leg before he stands up, stretching his arms out wide before he quietly disappears through the door too, leaving Liam staring after him, feeling even more miserable and horribly alone.

*

He can't catch Harry, not until the night before they're due to fly home, when they all head to bed exhausted and a bit drunk from celebrating their last night of the tour, and Liam finds himself outside Harry's hotel room, knocking softly on his door.

It takes a few minutes and constant knocking before Liam hears movement and finds a sleepy-looking, boxers-clad Harry staring back at him.

"Can I come in?" Liam asks, his gaze dropping to Harry's shoulder where his tattoo seems to almost glow.

Harry steps back, leaving the door open as he disappears around the corner, leaving Liam to follow. Harry's climbing back into bed, his phone on the duvet just turning dark and Liam wonders if he'd been talking to someone. Confiding in someone.

"I've missed you," Liam says quickly before he drops his gaze, resting back against the wall as he stares at the beige carpet. "I hate this. This is exactly what I didn't want to happen between us."

When he looks up, Harry's lifted the covers in invitation, even if he does look unsure about it. Liam quickly strips down to his boxers and crosses the room, sliding in next to Harry as they both lie down on their sides, facing each other.

"Can we talk about it in the morning?" Harry asks, his tone sleepy as his hand curls around Liam's arm, his thumb pressing down against his name. Liam's not sure if it's a conscious move or not but he feels calmer just from having Harry closer.

He moves slowly, a hand on Harry's shoulder as he pushes Harry onto his back and climbs over his hips, straddling his hips. His gaze softens as he stares down at Harry, who's just watching him, making no move to stop him or encourage him.

Letting him choose.

"Missed you," Liam says quietly, his index finger tracing over his name for the first time on Harry's skin. "You were right there and I missed you. How is that possible?"

"You tell me," Harry says quietly.

It makes Liam want to cry a bit, seeing how still Harry is. Realising how quiet Harry's grown over the past few months. Like he's just waiting for something. Or maybe waiting for someone. "I'm not your soulmate," Liam says, and he's not sure if he's saying it to convince Harry or himself anymore. He repeats it softly as he leans down and presses his lips against Harry's tattoo. He whispers it against Harry's skin as he feels Harry shiver underneath him, arching into his touch.

He stops saying it when Harry's hands slide over his hips, fingertips digging into his skin and holding him in place.

Like he'd ever want to leave.

"I'm not your soulmate," Liam murmurs as he lifts his head and his gaze drops to Harry's, tracing the face he knows so well. He leans down, their lips barely touching and his heart pounding. "But maybe I want to be."

Harry surges up, pressing their lips together and Liam wants to cry with how badly he wants this. He's shaking and trying to kiss him while Harry's clawing at his back, trying to urge him closer. Liam lets out a hiss as Harry scratches a long mark down his back, arching into Harry as the sharp pain eases.

"Maybe?" Harry asks, his big hands reaching up to cup Liam's face as he presses quick, fierce kisses against Liam's lips and cheeks and jaw. Liam's skin feels like it's on fire from Harry's touch.

"Jesus, Harry," Liam whispers, his cheek sliding against Harry's as he moves to press his face into Harry's neck. "Of course I want to be. How could I not?"

Harry whines quietly and Liam kisses him, kisses him until Harry's got a fist in his hair and a tight grip on his waist, rocking up against Liam almost desperately.

He kisses Harry until he's pink and flushed and Liam just stares down at him, his index finger tracing his red, slightly puffy lips. "How could I not want you all the time?" Liam murmurs, shaking his head. He dips down to kiss him again, Harry's lips chasing his when he pulls back.

"Can have me," Harry tells him, his hands trailing a careful path down Liam's back until Liam's squirming under his touch. "All yours."

"Tonight," Liam says and he has to duck down to kiss Harry's chest because he can't think about letting Harry go. Not now, when Harry's lying underneath him, looking small despite his broad chest and strong arms that keep Liam steady.

His hands circle Harry's wrists, pinning them down against the mattress as he presses tiny kisses down Harry's chest and over his belly. His lips ghost over the waistband of his boxers and he nuzzles against the tented material where Harry's dick is straining against the soft cotton, breathing in slowly as he tries to calm his racing heartbeat.

"Please," Harry whimpers, sounding broken and a bit desperate. "Please, Liam."

Liam nods, letting go of Harry's wrists and inordinately pleased when Harry doesn't move, his hands still against the cool sheets. He traces his index finger under the waistband, feeling Harry tense under his touch before he hooks his thumbs under the material and tugs down, Harry's hips lifting to help him.

He strips Harry easily, his hands lingering as his fingertips brush over Harry's long legs, trying to commit every touch to memory. He follows the path back with his lips, smiling as Harry tenses underneath him, his legs spreading easily as Liam bites down gently on his thigh.

When he lifts his head, there's a beautiful red mark against Harry's golden skin, a reminder that Liam's been here, even if it's only temporary. His thumb brushes over the tender skin, pleased when Harry shudders at the touch. His gaze flickers up to Harry's tattoo momentarily before he settles himself next to Harry, his fingers tracing a pattern on Harry's belly. Every shiver and moan that Harry makes, Liam commits to memory, squirreling it away for later. He catches Harry's lips for another kiss, his hand finally drifting lower until he's palming Harry's dick.

After his own, there's no dick he's as well acquainted with as Harry's. But this time he's not grabbing it for laughs, or to make Harry squeak with panic. This time, Harry's lifting his hips into Liam's touch, making tiny little noises against Liam's mouth as he silently begs for more. He tightens his grip slightly, his hand sliding easily down Harry's shaft, learning the curves and the weight of Harry in his hand, a low groan escaping his own lips as Harry leaks into his hand.

He's not really done this before, except on himself, and it's more awkward trying to keep a steady rhythm with his hand at this angle, but Harry's not complaining so he figures he must be doing okay.

"Please Liam," Harry whines, his voice breaking slightly as he rocks up into Liam's hand. He speeds up a little, a little drunk on the way Harry's begging him for more. "M'yours, yeah?"

"Yeah," Liam says a little desperately. His hand twists as he jerks Harry's dick harder, needing to see Harry get off with Liam's hand on his dick. He wants to see Harry fall apart, just this once. "You're mine."

"Liam," Harry breathes, his eyes opening as he comes silently in Liam's arms, his hand wet with Harry's come as he strokes him through it. When he whines helplessly, Liam lets go, lifting his hand to his mouth, amused as Harry watches him with drowsy eyes that sharpen as Liam licks his fingers clean.

Liam just wants to fold Harry into his arms and curl around him while he sleeps, but Harry's pushing him gently onto his back and quickly stripping him of his boxers, his dick hard and flushed against his belly as Harry stares down at him.

"Mine," Harry says possessively, his hand circling Liam's wrist and bringing it to his lips, kissing Liam's tattoo as his gaze stays locked on Liam's.

"Yours," Liam agrees, his other hand reaching up to cup Harry's face, his thumb stroking over Harry's parted lips gently. He's feeling horribly possessive, shifting until he's sitting up, Harry straddling his lap and he can kiss him. He can slide his tongue against Harry's and fuck gently into his mouth until they're both breathless and Liam feels like his heart might beat right out of his chest.

"Wanna suck you off," Harry mumbles, his cheeks flushing red as he stares somewhere over Liam's right shoulder. He looks embarrassed and yet defiant, like he's going to whether Liam wants him to or not. And well, Liam's not an idiot.

"Yeah," he says, perhaps a little too eagerly as Harry shuffles back and pushes Liam back down against the sheets. "Fuck, yeah Harry."

"Yeah," Harry whispers, settling between Liam's legs comfortably as he takes Liam's dick in his hand and strokes him gently.

He lowers his mouth until Liam's dick is smearing over his closed lips. "Fuck," Liam mutters, eyes wide as he watches. "You're so gorgeous, Harry."

Harry looks up at that, eyes bright like he's basking in the compliment. He's still looking at Liam when he opens his mouth and slides down carefully, his mouth closing around Liam's dick.

"Shit," Liam breathes, a little dazed at the sight of Harry swallowing his dick. When Harry keeps pushing down until Liam can feel the back of Harry's throat, can feel the way Harry closes around his tip, Liam gasps in surprise before he groans loudly, reaching down to press his palm against Harry's cheek where his eyes are streaming a little and he looks so, so pretty.

He doesn't miss the way Harry's gaze zeroes in on his wrist. Or the way Harry starts to move, deepthroating Liam and gasping for breath but not stopping, too eager to please. Not that it's going to take Liam long to come; not when Harry looks so fucking gorgeous and desperate for Liam, his mouth warm and tight around his dick.

"Harry, I'm close," he says hoarsely. Harry's hand grips his wrist, pressing against his tattoo. Suddenly he's too hot, his dick jerking helplessly in Harry's mouth as he starts to come. Harry pulls back slightly but not all the way, swallowing quickly. He wipes at his mouth, his lips bruised and bright red, slick with Liam's come.

Liam reaches for him, pulling him in until he's sprawled over Liam's chest, both of them breathing heavily, but Liam doesn't want to let him go. He lets one hand rest possessively on the small of Harry's back, just over the small curve of his arse as Harry's hand wraps around his wrist.

He falls asleep to the steady beat of Harry's heart.

*

He wakes up alone. Or rather, without Harry. But he's not alone exactly, since Zayn is lying next to him in bed, fully clothed and pretending to look calm.

It's not exactly how he wanted to wake up, Liam thinks as he wonders if Zayn's aware of what happened in this bed just a few hours ago and whether he'd still be lying here so calmly if he did.

"Morning," Zayn murmurs, his hand dropping to Liam's messy hair and attempting to stroke it back into some kind of order. It's soothing.

"Where's Harry?" Liam asks, not even bothering to pretend like they both don't know what happened. It's Harry's hotel room they're both in and Liam's definitely still naked under the sheets.

Zayn hesitates for a second. "Gone home," he says softly.

Liam wonders if he's meant to feel anything about the fact that Harry's run away from him, because all he feels is numb. "Oh," he says blankly. "Is he okay?"

"Not really," Zayn answers, trying to soften it with a smile but Liam still feels the sharp stab of pain in his chest. His thumb rubs over his tattoo carefully.

"He's not my soulmate," Liam says, although his voice is trembling. Zayn just looks sad and Liam wants to hide under the sheets. "I watched him, Zayn. When he didn't have his tattoo. He wasn't in love with me."

Zayn stays silent, but his hand stills in Liam's hair.

"I looked really fucking hard, Zayn," Liam mumbles, feeling more miserable than he has in his life. He wishes Harry _had_ looked at him differently. He wishes it harder than anything he's ever wished for in his life. But Harry hadn't. "He might think he does now, but it's just the tattoo. It's not real. It's not bloody real."

"Liam," Zayn says, sounding distressed. "Liam, do you love Harry?"

"Of course I do," Liam says immediately. "I love all of you."

"Do you want to be closer to him?" Zayn asks. "To touch him all the time? Kiss him?"

"Maybe," is all Liam can admit to, wrapped in sheets that still smell like Harry and sex. He's terrible at lying, but Zayn doesn't call him out on it. "But isn't that because of the tattoo? Because I'm expected to? What if it's not real? What if it's just two names that mean nothing?"

"Was last night real?" Zayn asks carefully, his cheeks burning as he avoids Liam's gaze. "Has the past four years been real? Do you want it to be real?"

Liam doesn't answer. He thinks Zayn knows the answers anyway. He thinks maybe the answers have always been right there, only he's been too scared to see them.

"I think I fucked up," is what he says. He's pulled into a fierce hug and he can't let go. He's not ready.

*

It takes him less than 24 hours to turn up in Holmes Chapel. He walks past the old bakery, not because he's expecting Harry to be there, but just because he's looking at it differently now. He's looking at everything a bit differently now.

He remembers the way to Anne and Robin's house, pulling up in his car and parking, suddenly feeling horribly nervous and petrified. It takes him so long to step out of the car that when he looks up, Anne's standing in the doorway, a welcoming smile on her face.

At least she's not glaring at him or shouting at him for breaking her son's heart. Or maybe she knows that Liam's already shouted at himself enough over the past 18 hours for everyone.

"Hey Liam," she calls out, waving him over. He moves, slow at first before he finds himself almost running towards her, enveloped in her soft hug.

"I messed up," he mumbles, his face buried in her hair. "I'm so sorry."

"We all mess up, Liam," she tells him, pulling back and smiling up at him. It's so easy with them, Liam thinks in amazement. It's always so easy, when he makes it so hard. "I know you'll fix it though. He's in the back garden. We're just heading out though, so you'll have the place to yourself for a few hours."

"Thanks, Anne," he says, desperately grateful. She smiles, and pats his cheek before she pushes him gently around the back, disappearing with a call for Robin. He waits until he hears the car start and pull away before he steps around the house, moving slowly as he scans the garden.

Harry's lying on the grass, arms folded behind his head as he stares up at clear blue sky.

"Hey," he says, his voice croaky and thick.

Harry turns towards him slowly, blinking like he's expecting Liam to disappear. "Hey," he says eventually. It's a bit flat and Liam hates it. He wants to make that tone fucking disappear.

"I'm sorry," he says helplessly. It's all he can say, and all Harry does is stare at him. "I'm so sorry, Harry. I messed everything up."

"How?" Harry asks carefully. He hasn't moved, and his voice is still a bit flat, but his hands have clenched into fists and Liam's not sure what that means.

"You left because I fucked up," Liam says miserably. He's not sure how he can know that he hates waking up alone now because he's only done it once since they spent the night together, but he does. "I fucked up and hurt you and I hate that I did that. I hate that you didn't punch me in the face and make me realise that I was hurting you."

Harry just looks at him a bit incredulously.

"You're going to have to do that sometimes," Liam says, swallowing around the horrible lump in his throat. "When I'm being stupid and an idiot. Just smack me or something. You know I'm a bit slow, sometimes. But like, soulmates look past all that stuff, right?"

Harry's not saying anything and Liam wants to cry. He's always been a bit crap at speeches and he's never been able to talk Harry into doing something he doesn't want to do before.

"Soulmates have to look past all the crap things their soulmate does because he's a stupid twat who can't see what's right in front of him," Liam says, shoving his hands into his pockets to stop himself from reaching out for Harry and begging. "Right?"

Harry opens his mouth before he promptly shuts it again. He slowly gets to his feet and stands a foot away from Liam, their bodies unconsciously mirrored. "Thought you didn't believe in all that."

"I don't," Liam says. "But I love you. Always have, I think. I just didn't realise it because I love all the lads and I thought you were part of that. But you're not, you're different. You're you. And I can see it now. I couldn't before, but I do now, Harry. I do."

"I thought you didn't trust the whole soulmate arrangement," Harry says, sounding more curious than anything. "Do you think I care about you simply because your name is tattooed across my chest?"

Liam wants to say no, but he's afraid. He's always been afraid. "I hope not," is all he can manage.

Harry steps forward, reaching for one of Liam's hands. "I've always loved you," he says almost casually, staring at Liam's hand as his thumb strokes over Liam's palm. "But you were in love with Dani. And you were so anti-soulmates. But I knew, you know. I knew your name was going to appear on my 21st birthday."

"Yeah?" Liam's having trouble speaking right now.

"Spent five horrible months trying to sneak a look at your tattoo in case it didn't say my name," Harry admits, smiling to himself. "I thought it had to, but the longer you hid it, the more I started to doubt myself. When you showed me on my birthday, I thought this is it. The moment I'd been waiting forever for. My happy ever after. Then you started telling me about coincidences and how I wasn't your Harry."

"I'm sorry," Liam says, lifting his hand to slide it into Harry's hair, leaving it in his tangled curls. "I'm so sorry, Harry. I'm sorry your soulmate is a complete dick."

"Yeah, but he's _my_ dick," Harry says seriously. Liam wants to kiss him so badly. "And you did let me take you on a date. And you got so jealous in the club, I thought that was going to be it."

"I hated that guy," Liam mumbles, face flushing as he remembers drunkenly snatching Harry away from him.

"Then you came to my hotel room and I thought that this had to be it," Harry says. "But you kept saying that you were only mine for the night, and I couldn't bear it. I was just about trying to figure out how to quit the band when you turned up."

Liam can't even begin to process Harry leaving the band, so he grabs Harry's other hand and holds on tight.

"So I can't prove to you that I'm not in love with you because of a tattoo," Harry says, a little sadly. "But I guess we're not that different because as it turns out, I don't want you unless it's real. I don't want you unless you're choosing me."

Liam wants to kiss him so badly. "I choose you," he says carefully. "God, I'll always choose you, Harry. Fuck soulmates. I choose you because I love you."

"About bloody time," Harry mutters with a quick grin before he's stepping forward and kissing Liam. They kiss like they're afraid to let go and Liam's got Harry flat on the grass, hands going for his jeans zip as Harry giggles into his mouth.

"I'm just really fucking gone for your dick, mate," Liam teases, making Harry laugh and roll his hips up into Liam's. "I'm just really fucking gone for all of you."

"Good, because I'm so in love with you," Harry says with a shaky laugh, his eyes bright and earnest. "Don't let me go, okay?"

"Never letting you go," Liam promises, and he means it. He pushes Harry's shirt back so he can trace Harry's tattoo. _His_ tattoo. Harry's hand encircles his wrist and he feels Harry's thumb brush over the sensitive skin. It's a move so familiar that it makes Liam ache. "Never."


End file.
